


Life Drawing

by Redleaveshavefallen



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: College, Fluff, I LOVE NUDE MODELLING AUS PLEASE LIVE WITH ME, M/M, Nude modelling for art classes not the risque kind, aged-up, nude modelling AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:43:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6970426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redleaveshavefallen/pseuds/Redleaveshavefallen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even before the model had been posed, it was obvious the guy was new to this. The beginners were usually a bit tense, but this one was literally scared stiff. The nervousness radiating off of him was nearly visible—no, it was visible, and it was showing even in his drawings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Drawing

                Tajima had only taken the sketching class for the art credit. Still, his professor claimed he had potential as an artist; his natural perceptiveness suited him for observational drawings. They said that he even went into _too much_ detail, his drawing pace too fast for their liking and capturing a bit too much. Tajima still had trouble communicating everything he saw to paper, but he was a quick learner and a step above the beginners. It was a nice way to pass the time, he supposed, but he probably wouldn’t be keeping it as a hobby.

                Now, when the nude models came in, that was always a hoot. They had at least one a week, more now that they were midway through the semester. He always made a show of waiting for them, wondering aloud if they would get a hot one this time or another fat man strapped for cash. But despite how he talked, he was usually pretty mature about the whole situation once the models came out. Once he began focusing, opinions and desires were shelved, his whole attention on visual study and sketching.

                When that day’s model came out, Tajima only observed he wasn’t a regular before he stopped making non-physical observations. While the professor discouraged sketching before the model had posed and the timer had started, Tajima usually began making small notes right away. A line to practice the slope of the model’s shoulder, a soft series of strokes vaguely capturing his jaw.

                Even before the model had been posed, it was obvious the guy was new to this. The beginners were usually a bit tense, but this one was literally scared stiff. His muscles were rigid, shoulder drawn inward in a lame attempt to hide himself, and his head kept swiveling about even as his neck tensed to keep still. The nervousness radiating off of him was nearly visible—no, it _was_ visible, and it was showing even in his drawings.

                Just sketching it was making him cringe. No matter what his professor said about talent or whatever, he wasn’t actually an amazing artist. Observation was one thing, but straying from what he saw was difficult, almost impossible. The minute he left his physical references, the art quality degraded to that of a twelve year old. And now he was trying to draw the almost painful awkwardness out of his model’s posture and was left with a mess. It was frustrating.

                After an hour, the professor called a break-a bit earlier than usual, but the model obviously needed it. As the rest of the class dispersed from their easels to stretch or converse, Tajima jumped up to run after the model, who was scurrying off to his robe.

                “Hey, you!”

 

\----

 

                He jolted, shoulders raising up to his ears. Peeking behind him, he saw Tajima standing only a few feet away, pencil still in hand. Even though he was shorter by a few inches, he still gave off a strong presence that had the model hunching into his robes.

                “I didn’t catch your name when you were introduced.”

                “M-M-Mihashi. R-Ren.”

                Mihashi knew who Tajima was. In fact, he admired him. Tajima had gotten into the university on a sports scholarship, scouted for the baseball team. Mihashi saw him in games all the time. He was incredible.

                He could have joined the team too, but had been too afraid to. He had been ace pitcher throughout most of junior high and high school, but always on losing teams. He didn’t have much confidence left in himself, but had still applied to a university with a good ball team. It was a bit pathetic how part of him still wouldn’t let go of baseball even when he knew he would never get anywhere with it, but watching games wasn’t bad. Especially when Tajima played.

                He had not expected their first conversation to be during his first day as a nude model. He had not expected a conversation at all, let alone one where he was a trembling mess and only partially clothed. Mihashi’s eyes wandered to the floor, a bit too ashamed to look at him.

                “Nice to meet you!” Tajima gave a small bow that seemed a bit inappropriate, considering one was a talented and respected human being and the other had just been sitting naked on a table. “Mihashi, you’re pretty nervous, right?”

                Mihashi felt panic rise in his throat, and he attempted to tuck his chin into his neck. It did not fit. He heard a thoughtful sigh.

                “Hmmmm….” Tajima lips pursed in thought, eyes scanning over Mihashi (he wrapped the robe more tightly around himself) and, after a few seconds of deliberation, jumped forward and started tickling his sides. Mihashi screamed. And then he laughed.

                Someone in the room yelled at Tajima to stop (and also to ‘keep his hands off the models’), but he just yelled something in reply and continued tickling. Mihashi’s legs started shaking and then caved, falling forward so Tajima’s shoulder supported his weight. Tajima pulled his hands away, letting Mihashi catch his breath before helping to steady him.

                “Taji—what---???” Mihashi gasped confusion between breaths, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to know Tajima’s name.

                “You’re feeling more relaxed now, right?”

                Mihashi lifted his head from Tajima’s shoulder, finally able to see the other’s dependable smile.

                “It’s something the guys at my old high school used to do during games! I thought you might need it.” Tajima’s smile turned into a full grin, and he placed a hand on Mihashi’s shoulder. “There’s no reason to be nervous; we see so many naked models, we’re pretty much desensitized! So just be confident, alright?”

                The professor’s voice rang out, calling everyone back to their spots. Mihashi nodded to the professor quickly, and then to Tajima. He wasn’t sure he could really be ‘confident’… but he did feel a lot less scared.

                Stripping off his robes again, he walked to the middle of the room and waited for his next pose.

 

\---

                The next hour and a half of sketching was much smoother. Now that the obvious rigidity wasn’t capturing all of his attention, he could finally draw for real; for a while, his thinking shifted just to the curvature of Mihashi’s spine, the shape of his gait, the roundness of his eyes. Defining the muscles that were present even in his skinny frame, tracing the arc of his wrist; he gathered copious amounts of insights just on Mihashi’s body, and didn’t leave himself room to assign judgements to them. It was only as class drew to a close and his attention began to slow that he started placing values to what he saw.

                And what he saw, he liked.

                Gazing at his drawings after class, he saw what was definitely an athlete’s body, but with some delicacy in it. He saw rough hands, though he hadn’t drawn in the details. And he saw, in every drawing from the last half of class, how Mihashi was always turned to face him, his smile growing a bit in each.

                Had Mihashi been staring at him without his noticing?

                And had he really been smiling like how his drawings looked?

 

\---

 

                Mihashi just happened to be passing by the baseball field.

                …No. That was a lie. He had no classes near there; in fact, he had no reason to go by that part of campus at all. But there was always part of him, the part with the lingering hope, the ever-glowing love of the game, that had him walking along where the baseball team practiced. He occasionally stopped to watch them, the sound of balls hitting mitts and the ringing of bats making his heart squeeze. He sometimes even made the excuse that he was just finding a place to study in the sun, but he could hardly study when baseball got his attention.

                Being midway through the semester, the excuse of reading outside to enjoy the weather was hardly credible. Instead, it was a break from homework—and possibly a time to catch sight of Tajima. It had been just a few days since his first time modelling, but he had felt a bit antsy ever since. Now that he knew Tajima as a person, even if only a little bit, he wanted to see him play again. Wanted to see his batting while recognizing the human behind it.

                Or something like that.

He wanted to see Tajima, that much was clear. But, and he realized this too late, he might not have wanted Tajima to see _him._

                “Mihashi!!”

                Mihashi startled, jumping and watching the fence in fear as a familiar face ran up. Tajima waved his arm above his head, the other hand gripping his bat. Sweat dripped slowly down his temple, but other than that he hardly seemed to be tired at all.

Mihashi was still reeling at the fact that Tajima had remembered his name. “You—how---?”

                Tajima grinned. “I have a good memory!”

                Mihashi wiggled nervously, smiling a bit too wide. It made him happy to be remembered by someone like Tajima.

                They were able to talk a little, and Mihashi was surprised how natural it began to feel, with little need for stuttering or rephrasing meanings. Tajima just seemed to understand him, and that made Mihashi feel at ease.

                But it wasn’t long before Tajima was called back to practice. Watching him, Mihashi was again reminded how cool Tajima was, how great of a batter and player he was, along with how nice and amazing he was to talk to. Mihashi began to worry if his coolness was wasted on a loser like him.

                The initial confidence and energy Mihashi had felt while conversing slowly ebbed into anxiety, and he found himself skittering away from the field before Tajima’s next break.

\---

 

                Tajima had been happy to see Mihashi coming in during their next life drawing session. He even smiled and waved when he saw the guy come in, robe shaking as if the poor model were set on vibrate. He had assumed Mihashi would calm down once class started.

                He was wrong.

                He looked no better than his first day—maybe even worse. He was absolutely inconsolable, fidgeting hands and flickering eyes nonstop. The nervousness was palpable, and no one could concentrate well; they ended up taking another early break.

                Tajima shot up from his seat, already seeing the professor making a bee-line for Mihashi. But within a second Mihashi met his eyes and ran for him with a yell.

                “TAJIMAAA!” The class, including the professor, all stared, but Tajima just ran to meet him. “T-T-Tajima, I need you to do it again!”

                “Do what, Mihashi?”

                “T-the tickles!”

                The class was openly gawking, a few of them laughing without any attempt to hide it. Luckily Tajima wasn’t the type to get shy from attention; he felt a grin grow on his face, and took a step forward.

                “Okay!” He lunged for Mihashi’s sides, a little squeal slipping out of the other. He tried to twist and turn out of his hold, but to no avail; strong callused fingers kept him from escaping, working until all of the tension and nervous energy was worked out of him and he was a laughing mess.

                “You okay there, Mihashi?” Most of the class had stopped watching; the professor had apparently given up on whatever scolding was supposed to happen. Mihashi, still shaking a bit with leftover laughter, nodded with a smile.

                “Y-yeah, thanks.”

                “Why were you so nervous? I mean, it isn’t your first day anymore.”

                Mihashi twisted a little bit in place, wide eyes looking everywhere except at Tajima. “I-I know, but, uhm, it just became… scary… again…”

                Tajima frowned. “I already told you no one is going to judge you.”

                “I-I know! But….” He didn’t look convinced. Whatever confidence he had inspired last week apparently hadn’t stuck around. Tajima thought of what he could do to make Mihashi feel comfortable.

                “Uhm,” Mihashi had opened his mouth again, “I just… Well, I’m not…” He looked uneasily at his own body, and suddenly Tajima understood.

                “Mihashi, just a second!” He ran back to his spot, digging through his sketch portfolio until he found the sketches from the week before. Rushing back, he thrusted the sketches forward. Mihashi took them uncertainly, looking from them to Tajima and then back to the sketches.

                “Mihashi, you have no reason to be self-conscious!” He leaned over Mihashi’s shoulder, looking over the sketches with him. “These were sketches drawn last week—they’re all you! And you look really good, right?”

                Seeing Mihashi holding them, he was suddenly reminded of the thoughts he had eventually thought while looking at the pictures, and aware that he now knew the feeling of Mihashi’s bare skin beneath his fingers…he suddenly felt a bit anxious, hoping Mihashi couldn’t see Tajima’s thoughts through the pencil lines.

                Mihashi shook his head, shaking Tajima from his thoughts in the same instance. “This… isn’t me.”

                “Sure it is, just look!”

                “No, I mean… You made me…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but Tajima could understand the tone of his voice. “You’re…a good artist… so…” Tajima stepped away from Mihashi’s side so he could look him in the eyes.

                “Mihashi, I might be good at sketching, but I can’t draw things I can’t see. This,” he poked his finger into a sketch Mihashi had in his hands, “is what you look like. You’re really cool—you’re gorgeous!! In fact, after I realized what I had drawn, I couldn’t stop staring at them! I was thinking about you all week!”

                Even Tajima was a bit embarrassed at this point, but Mihashi’s eyes widened in happiness.

                “Really?”

                Tajima had to pause at the genuine reaction.

                “Yeah! You’re really attractive!! So, don’t be nervous!”

                Mihashi looked again at the sketches with a new sense of wonder, as if finally realizing the boy in the drawings was him. “Okay! Thanks, Tajima!”

                And just like that, Mihashi seemed confident. Tajima might as well have written ‘good model’ on his back.

 

\---

                When Mihashi returned to the middle of the circle of art students, he did not feel paranoia eat at him like before. The same amount of eyes were still trained on him, but one of those pairs of eyes belonged to Tajima.

                Of course he wasn’t devoid of shyness, but just like pitching in a good game, he could feel calm in the middle of many eyes, so long as he had someone trustworthy across from him.

                (Tajima thought he was cool, and gorgeous, and attractive. Tajima thought he looked like the incredible drawings he had made. And knowing that’s how Tajima saw him, his own skin had never felt so comfortable.

                He had never been so proud, he thought, to be Mihashi Ren.)

 

\----

                After that, Tajima always called out to Mihashi when he saw him during practice or games, and talked to him when he showed up as a model during art class. He’d learned more about Mihashi now—his love of baseball, his family life, his major and focus. He’d even batted a few of his pitches once—and bragged to the rest of his team about his ‘hot model friend’ in front of him.

               The guy loved compliments, he’d realized, and Tajima was more than willing to give them. It wasn’t hard, after all. As they become familiar, the compliments he gave grew more and more bold. His flirtatious comments were steadily increasing as well.

               Even Mihashi must have noticed by now, he thought. That’s what he hoped. He’d become pretty attached to his friend, and he was cute. You can only see your cute friend naked in front of you so many times before the ‘cute friend’ label no longer feels satisfactory. They were so in synch sometimes it was almost scary, and sometimes Tajima thought they had been meant to meet.

               “Mihashi, do you ever think about what would have happened if we hadn’t met?” They were hanging out in an on-campus restaurant after art class, Tajima waiting for his drink to cool. Mihashi was blowing on his cup, big eyes flickering up beneath his lashes in a way that almost felt purposeful. Tajima knew Mihashi too well for that, though: he was never charming on purpose.

               “T-to be honest…” Mihashi stirred his drink, eyes retreating down to the table, “I, I always hoped we would talk. I never thought we would. But I admired you, even before you talked to me.” He looked up again and met Tajima’s eyes, smiling sweetly. “I’m glad we met, Tajima.”

               Warmth flooded Tajima’s chest, and he didn’t try to bite back the grin blossoming across his face. “I’m glad we met too. Really glad.” He reached a hand across the table to place on Mihashi’s own; Mihashi flinched his hand away but Tajima grabbed it back and squeezed gently. “Mihashi, would you go out with me?”

               Mihashi turned to the left, then the right, then behind him. He continued swiveling around until he finally faced Tajima again, hesitantly pointing to himself. “Me?”

               “You know how I helped you relax when you started modelling for my class? Well, I could help you with tons of other stuff, and we can play baseball together too, and I know neither of us are very smart but maybe together—“

               “Tajima--”

               “I’d be a really really good boyfriend, promise!” Tajima leaned forward across the table, eyes determined. Mihashi’s face had gone a bit red.

               “But, am I good enough?”

               Tajima just stared wide-eyed for a second, before sitting down in his seat.

               “You’re more than enough.”

               A second passed, and Mihashi’s eyes filled with tears. Tears watered the table as he thanked Tajima over and over through the hands covering his face, and even though Tajima wasn’t an easy crier he was so happy he almost cried too.

               Even though everyone in the restaurant was staring at them, at that moment the only thing in his eyes was Mihashi.

               And what he saw, he liked.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I nearly applied for a nude modelling position for my college's art students but did not. I have regretted it ever since. Now, I strive to live vicariously through all my favourite characters...This will not be the last nude modelling AU I will write.


End file.
